


Silver Hairpins

by pokeasleepingsmaug



Series: Sihtric Elflaedsson [4]
Category: The Last Kingdom (TV), The Warrior Chronicles | The Saxon Stories - Bernard Cornwell
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:20:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27527533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pokeasleepingsmaug/pseuds/pokeasleepingsmaug
Summary: Returning from a long campaign, Sihtric has a surprise for his wife. Little does he know, she has one for him, too.
Relationships: Sihtric/Eahlswith
Series: Sihtric Elflaedsson [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/933489
Comments: 9
Kudos: 17





	Silver Hairpins

Sihtric was always happy to come home flush with victory, but this time he was even happier. One new silver ring clinked on each arm: one for being at Uhtred’s left hand during the boar’s tusk that broke the Danish shield-wall, another for his spying, which had allowed them to set an ambush and secure victory. 

But coming home with a new ring on each arm was not anything new for Sihtric, Uhtred was a generous lord despite his own lack of wealth, but when the silver flowed to him, he ensured it flowed to all his men, too. The new pink scar on his arm, snaking its way along the back of his forearm, was not a new occurrence, either; he was covered in scars, each one a story. This one was from a blade meant to sink into Uhtred’s shoulder; he would take that blow again and again.

What was new, this time, was the soft clinking in the leather pouch attached to his belt. Uhtred had dropped them into his palm with a smirk and a quirk of his brow. “Your wife has expensive taste, does she not?” 

Sihtric didn’t bother to correct him, didn’t bother to tell Uhtred that Eahlswith liked things that glittered because they meant security in her mind: she was alive now only because she once offered a ransacking Dane three silver coins to let her disappear into the forest. 

“Thank you, Lord,” Sihtric had answered with a smile, pocketing the handful of silver hairpins. Eahslwith would appreciate them: more portable than coins, she would always have something to bargain with at hand. And Sihtric could picture the way they would catch the light and glisten in her dark hair, and his shoulders straightened, just a little, at the thought. 

Eahlswith may be a practical woman, but Sihtric was a Dane even against his mother’s will, and prone to fits of pride, as all Danes are. His wife deserved to have silver in her hair, won by her husband’s hands, even if she would not appreciate it for that. 

They pass through the gates of Coccham, it’s early morning and folk are just beginning to rise, but no crowd greets them. The men that stayed behind to guard their families call down from the ramparts. Uhtred had been careful to set aside a portion of the spoils for them; Sihtric knew they would report to Uhtred’s hall later in the morning to collect their due. 

This had been a long campaign, stretching from the end of winter to early summer, and Sihtric knew this would probably be just a brief respite from the fighting. Summer was fighting season, and sometimes into the harvest, although they were usually safe at home by the time the first snow flew. 

He grabs the lead of his back-up horse from the stable-boy that accompanied them and heads to the stables. The boy shoots him a grateful smile, no doubt already thinking of his warm bed, and Sihtric enters the quiet barn and breathes deep of horses and hay. He doesn’t think he will ever tire of the smell, but for the first time in his life, he rushes through the care of them. He knows they are in good health anyway, but he guiltitly feeds each an apple before hurrying home. 

This is the first time he has left her since their wedding, and Sihtric pauses to breathe deeply and settle his nerves. He wonders briefly if he should knock, if someone just opening the door and barging in will startle her. After a moment’s deliberation, he decides he does not need to knock on the door to his own home, but if Eahlswith charges him with the short dagger he left her, well, he will deserve it. 

He opens the door softly and slips inside, closing the door quietly behind him. Their bed is pushed against the far wall, and her back is to him as she smoothes the quilt over it. Her dark hair falls down her back in a simple braid, and all Sihtric can think about is undoing it and sliding the silver pins into her hair, how soft it will feel in his fingers, the way her face will glow with joy. 

Sihtric clears his throat, and Eahlswith jumps with a startled little yell. Her face breaks into a grin when she sees Sihtric standing in the doorway, and he starts for her and wraps his arms around her quickly, squeezing as tight as he dares, reveling in the feel of her, before he pulls back just far enough to kiss her slow and deep, his lips and tongue re-learning the taste and the feel of her. This feels like coming home, more than riding through the gates of Coccham, and more than walking through the door of his own house.

“I have a surprise for you,” he whispers against her smiling lips when he pulls back. 

“I have one for you, too,” she murmurs, kissing him lightly. Sihtric takes a moment to enjoy the feel of her breath against his lips. 

Then he grins, his hands sliding down her sides to rest on the burgeoning swell of her belly, his heart feeling like it might burst. “So I see.” He kisses her again, slowly stroking the place where his child grows, and he begins to untie the laces of her dress. He needs to worship every inch of her--the hairpins can wait.


End file.
